"First - Chapter 1" by Laura Soret

“Thank you.”

“Thank you, madam. Please, come back soon”, answered the robot politely.

Not a lot of people actually bother to thank a robot, because it would be a waste of breath. It´s not like the robot cares anyway. But I thank them always. Don´t ask why, I just can´t stand to be mean to someone who works so heartedly for me, even if that someone is a machine. I guess, deep inside, I was hoping one of them would one day actually thank me for thanking them, something that hasn´t happened so far.

I picked up the bag with the groceries and turned around to leave the shop. Not everybody thinks so, but I found it thrilling that this robot who can actally walk on two legs would come to work at this particular neighbourhood. There aren´t many robots around since this is still a pretty poor district, let alone an advanced robot like this one.

But Mr.Shags, the grocery store owner, won a small lottery last month and has retired soon, leaving an expensive robot to do his job so he wouldn´t have to close the establishment.

So I frequent that store more than ever. Someday I would ask the robot to call me Tanya, and see if he could remember the next time I came over. I will even ask it its name, and see if it understands. Robots these days usually have limited vocabulary and responses recorded, as well as the complexity of the sentences that they can understand. Sometimes I get disappointed by a response that had nothing to do with the question I asked. I´m still waiting to be able to have a real coversation with one.

People can´t understand why robots fascinate me so, and I can´t either, so I usually ignore the comments or simply raise my shoulders in an inconclusive reply. I wish I had a robot of my own sometimes, although I also know that I would be dissapointed too by its limited interactions. But since I don´t have the money to buy myself not even a cheap one anyways, I simply visit the richest neighborhoods in the city once in a while with my nephew and enter an expensive hotel just to speak with the receptionist.

Once out of the store, I headed to my appartment a couple of squares down Pyrite Street, in a twentieth century building that could really use an upgrade. My nephew, Collin, would be coming soon from school.

There was Albert, selling the morning newspaper as always, at the corner with Montgrey Drive. I´ve known Albert a long time. The poor old man hasn´t changed a bit since I was new at the neighborhood. He´s as wrinkled and smelly as ever, but such a kind person to walk past by.

“Hey, Albert.”

“Hi, Tanya. The usual, I presume?”

“It´s not like you´re selling anything else, are you?”

Albert showed his remaining four teeth in a smile that looked more like he was in

pain. “There you go, go buy yourself a sandwich.” I hand him fifty bucks.

Albert spread the few coins in his palm and gave a deep sigh.

“I bet you don´t remember the days when you could buy five DVDs with this amount, huh?”

“You know I don´t, I was too little. But prices have gone pretty high from what I can remember.”

The old man gave another sigh and put the coins inside his ragged coat.

“Well, see you around, Albert.”

He waved his wrinkly spotted hand in reply and I went into the building. My mailbox was empty as usual, so I just walked straight to the elevator and pressed the number 12 button. Usually you´d need only your voice to make it move, but it wasn´t the case. The elevator doors squeeled closed, it shook a bit and started ascending.

I finally got home and locked the door from the inside, then left the groceries in the small two-seats kitchen table. Something in the paper´s front page called my attention.

SEVERAL-TIME-AWARD-WINNING ROBOTICS ENGINEER FOUND DEAD

There was a photo of the engineer shaking hands with the mayor. His uncared bear and his mad scientist look was familiar to me. I had seen the man a couple of times around the neighborhood. Scrolling down the paragraphs, I read several intersting facts:

...was found dead this morning at the abandoned Beeks´n Graham´s factory. Forensics confirm, his traquea was hit and broken in two by a hard object, sofocating him, and can almost assure it was, in fact, murder...

The factory was close by. Only a few squares further down. I remember when that factory was still open and functioning. It used to be an editorial, but it went out of business because of internet and downloadable books.

...he seemed to have transformed into a clandestine laboratory. All evidence from stored archives pointed that he had been working in some kind of illegal or unregistered robot, although the authorities have denyed further information and no actual robot was found anywhere in the factory.

That´s funny. It was almost like that movie based on Asimov´s novel, with the old nutcase, and the robot… What was it called? Eh, I only saw the beginning anyway. Such an old movie... Special effects were a bit off too.

The twentieth century doorbell rang and I tossed the newspaper aside. I went to get the door.

“Hi, Aunt Tanya!”

“Hey, hon. How was school today?”

“Boring. Tim Gonzales brought his small pet robot, though. When are you gonna buy me one?”

He made that question so often it was no longer taken seriously by any of us.

“Tomorrow.”

“Yeah, right...”

Collin liked robots almost as much as I did. I guess it was just influence.

“Did he let you pet his robot?”

“No, he said I´d break it. He´s always bringing stuff so we can tell him how cool they are, but he never shares.”

“Don´t worry, someday I´ll get us a robot if it kills me.”

“And will it be a cool robot?”

“He will be the coolest.”

“The coolest in the city.”

“The coolest of all the robots.”

It was too much dreaming, but hope has always been something I never lacked.



A dirty city pidgeon was walking calmly down a deserted alley and lolling its head back and forth, looking for any scraps and crumbs of breads it might take advantage of.

First heard it coming and lifted its head up to look at it, then upwards to the sky as the pidgeon flew in alarm at the sight of the moving robot. It had never seen such a thing.

The android was sitting on the wet and filthy floor leaning against a brick wall. For the looks of it, it was no wonder the pidgeon had taken its body for a pile of junk, and anyone could have thought it a long broken and abandoned robot, its wires tangled and gushing out like the hairs of a poorly done braid.

But the pidgeon had waken it up and now its head was up and alert, as if it didn´t know how it had gotten there. Of course, it hadn´t been exactly sleeping, but just in some sort of hybernation mode. Such complicated piece of engineering needed to rest its circuits once in a while.

But this time it had been, somehow, a little more deeply asleep than usual. Maybe it was just tired from a hard night´s work. It hadn´t even noticed the sun coming up, or the children passing by the corner of the alley, going to school, or the garbage truck, working just a few streets down Montgrey road with all its racket.

There was noise in the nearby square. Children were playing with their ball, although all that First could see was a kid or two passing by its alley, with the ball before their feet, once in while.

There was a pause, and then yelling, and First listened with all its curious attention. The kids were fighting over something, but the robot only heard screams. Then, a loud thud, and the ball came flying into the alley and rolling all the way up to First´s feet. First looked carefully at the ball, then leaned forward and grabbed it with its metalically bony hand to examine it more closely.

The yelling suddenly stopped; all the children seemed to be leaving. But not everyone, apparantly.

An angry-looking boy came strolling up the alley and drying his face with his sleeve. He was searching for his ball. First watched as the boy looked behind cardboard boxes and garbage cans. Then he stopped, for he had finally spotted his ball.

The boy looked up and down at First with an amused, surprised face, and perhaps a bit disgusted, but amused nonetheless. He approached the robot cautiously and planted himself right in front of it, then said:

“Hi!”

First looked at the boy, confused, but didn´t get up. Nobody had spoken that word to it before, although it had heard it once or twice. It decided to respond.

“Hi.”

“Can I have my ball, please?” the boy said, reaching out with his little hand. First gave another curious look at the ball, then handed it to the boy. The boy then stood there with the ball held in both hands, staring at the robot.

“Why are you so dirty?” he asked with no remorse whatsoever.

“Because I am sitting in a dirty floor” answered First, not very sure why the boy wouldn’t see the reason for himself.

“Are you an abandoned robot?”

“No.”

“Where’s your owner, then?”

The robot thought for a second. It had been asked a question it couldn’t respond.

“I don´t know” it simply said.

“Can you play catch?”

“I can catch, but I don´t know if I can play-catch.”

The boy laughed in amusement at the android´s strange answer.

“It´s a game, silly! Look, I throw the ball at you and you have to catch it.”

The boy threw the ball with all his might, but the ball never reached the robot’s face. First caught it with incredible reflexes.

“That was cool! Now throw it to me!”

First then threw the ball softly to the boy, who barely had to move to grab it, for the robot´s aim was perfect.

They both repeated the same steps over and over. The boy seemed to be really enjoying himself, and First was still sitting in that awkward pose.

“Collin?” called a voice from outside the alleyway, and the kid kept the ball to himself this time and looked in the direction from which it came.

“I´m over here, Aunt Tanya!”

The face of a dark haired woman poked around the corner, then stepped in the shadowy alley.

“What are you doing here?” I said, looking around me at the filthy floor covered in trash as I walked towards the boy.

“Aunt Tanya, look!” said the boy, leaping with excitement.

I then laid eyes on First and stopped dead in my tracks.

“Oh, wow! Aw, It´s a broken robot!” I said with a gesture of most disgust, thinking it disconnected.

But the robot talked.

“I´m not broken.”

And I replaced my unpleasant look for one of amazement, much like the boy when he first saw it. “It understood what I said!” I thought.

“He´s so cool, aunt Tanya, look!” said Collin, and then threw the ball to the robot once again, and once again the robot caught it with a quick reflex of its arms. “See? Timmy´s robot only gets knocked down!”

“Let me see” said I, still not taking my eyes off First. I walked right at the robot, looked at it in the eyes and with a loud and clear voice I said “Hello.”

First stared at me for a moment, a little confused by my change in tone, but answered.

“Hello.”

“Identify yourself.”

“They call me First.”

I was a little perplexed, and decided to try again.

“Identification code, please.”

“I don´t have one.”

“That’s odd…” said I, puzzled as much as amazed. I shook my head. “Its memory cell must be damaged.”

“I´m not damaged” said the robot, though I didn’t pay much attention, since Collin started yelling “can we keep him, can we keep him, can we keep him?”

I looked round at the robot, who was looking fixedly at the two of us, listening quietly. The truth was, I wasn´t very sure about it. It seemed like an amazing and unusual robot, probably one of the most expensive in the market, but somehow it had been thrown away and even lost its case. It would be much cheaper than buying an entirely new robot, surely, but a repair could certainly cost too much for me to be able to afford that either, and yet, I couldn´t wait to try it out.

Collin was still insisting, and I suddenly noticed the robot´s strange pose, sitting on the floor, and wondered whether its legs were not working.

“Get up!” I told it.

I was surprised to see it lay its hands on the floor to push itself up and smoothly stand with the most admirable balance and grace a good five and a half feet tall.

“It´s…” I had no words for what I had just witnessed. “It´s a good robot.”